


This Isn't what I planned on doing tonight

by Thespain_Hauler



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aftercare, Drinking, Drunken Shenanigans, Intermission (Homestuck), M/M, Marathon Running, Multi, The Felt - Freeform, Very light CrowDie, booze, drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23423197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thespain_Hauler/pseuds/Thespain_Hauler
Summary: The game is over, the mansion is rebuilt, and the weird chess people have picked up "sports".
Relationships: Crowbar/Die (Homestuck), Doze/Itchy (Homestuck), Fin/Trace (Homestuck)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	This Isn't what I planned on doing tonight

**Author's Note:**

> [This is the roughest story I have saved on my computer. I write my stories how my brain narrates them, and then I fill them up with the extra descriptive details. My brain narrates my ideas out to me, while showing me comic panels depicting how characters are situated and what they're doing as they talk, sometimes things move, it's just a really weird way that I tell stories to myself.
> 
> So this will not be as edited or as detailed as the other stories sitting in my folders. But I wanna dip my toe into sharing these things with the fandom. Bear with me here. It's not the best but I'm tired, so here it goes.

Now we’re here, in the middle of the “town”, lined up in this little sitting section of a strange open parking lot sort of area cause it’s dead center of the marathon path. What that actually means is we’re technically inside of a cement parking lot island while the marathon path weaves around blocked off streets. It’s apparently an annual thing they’re doing, as a way to celebrate how the town grows and spreads, so every few years the race gets longer and harder. Psh, whatever. Of course, Itchy is running through the marathon, it’s what he’s best at, well to be fair he’s jogging while everyone else is running, but at least he’s sort of giving the other fellas a shot at it. It’s breezy, maybe nippy for some of the freeze babies, but for anyone that’s normal it’s a nice early fall day and the felt are there with their fold out chairs to cheer on their favorite yellow bastard.

Doze is the one actually paying attention, which let’s be honest is a small miracle, but the guys’ been spending less and less time in the slow zone since they got the mansion to themselves. He’s sitting there in his light sweater with a small blanket over his lap, hat snugged down against the breeze, and a thermos of warm cocoa in his hands. His eyes are partially lidded and he’s just plain old cozy out here, one would think he was sleeping, except for the occasional lift of his head to glance at the road in front of him. He was the one that noticed the runners making their way towards the supporters. Itchy was leading the pack, mostly, he would let himself dip behind a few guys before popping back to the front. He’s trying not to brag, too hard. Doze alerts the other guys to cheer when he just belts out “THAT’S MY BOY”, the rest of the felt managing to turn in time and joining in cheering as Itchy passes by, even Crow gives him more than just a halfhearted go get em’. Frankly who would have figured ol’ speedy Gonzales would up and get with slowbro in a trove of all things, even Fin seemed surprised.

Aaaaand there goes the last runner, we’re back to staring at the empty road, people are turning to their neighbors chatting away, snacking, and drinking. This is the part of marathon support that never made much sense to Crowbar, I mean honestly, you pick a spot and wait around until the runners pass you by and then what, for a linear race you see the runners for a few seconds and then you’re back to standing around and doing nothing. At least this marathon has the runners making their way by the spectators a few times, but even then, there’s long periods of people just milling about. Sure, supporting your friends and family is great but, you gotta admit, this is a little boring. He’s come to this event without a jacket cause the weather was incredibly nice, and now he regrets it cause his flask was in his jacket, an act that he’s beginning to regret more and more with each second he’s staring at the empty road. He glanced down at the cooler between himself and Die’s chair, lifting the lid to check if he could get lucky, it was mostly soda’s and water. Why is today the day everyone decided to not share their booze by leaving it out of the flipping cooler? Crow just sighs and lets the lid back plop down into place. 

He hears some strange huffing and tittering and for the first time in a long while, long being relative to the guy stuck sitting on his ass for the last hour or so watching people run past every quarter of it, raises his head to glance over at Die. He’s huffing and puffing and letting out soft hee hee hee’s, honestly it sounds more like a wheeze but he’s smiling, with actual glee??? Crow lets out a small puff himself as he watches this strange green twig rummage around behind the cooler. “That’s a laugh… what are you even doing?” Die barely glances back at him, suddenly there’s a snap and a quick hiss, Crow leans further forward to get a glance in and sees a familiar brown tinted glass bottle. “Is that a drink? Hey ps…--” he snaps his fingers, not hard enough to make a sharp noise, just a light put-put-put-put, then just lightly wiggles a few of them as he reaches forward, “hand me one will ya”. Die just gives him a huge grin and lets Crow take the one he’s already popped open before popping one for himself. Crow is, well surprised from the look, but right now there’s more important things, like the beer. He took a long swig and actually had to blink a bit cause this was stronger than he expected it to be. He lets out a small cough and smacks his lips as he checks the label. Die’s just tipping his back. Crow nods in solidarity to that idea, “this’ll work”, and he joins Die in tipping the bottle back until empty.

* * * * *

Itchy jogs his way lightly over to the guys once the marathon is over, carrying a small golden trophy. Fin spots him first and Trace follows the line of sight, turning and grinning at Itchy, asking, “Didya win?” Itchy scoffs at him, “Whadaya think? They ain’t big on showey stuff”, he waves the trophy a bit, still proud that he won it but honestly whadd’ya expect, he was number one after all. “Sweet, that mean we can pack up?”, Trace buries his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet, some the guys’ were getting a little antsy just standing around, and traffic was about to start getting terrible, Trace was as eager to get on the road as the next guy. Itchy just nods, pausing by Doze and handing him the trophy, letting his guy inspect it, reminiscent of a puppy bringing their favorite toy on over. It would be a cute habit if it came from anyone besides Itchy, just seems like he shoves things in Doze’s hands like “Lookatit”. The guys start finishing their drinks and picking up their chairs. Doze holds onto Itchy’s trophy while Itchy folds the blanket up, can’t say he isn’t getting trained well. Clover comes over and taps Die to get him cognizant and tell him they were leaving, Die in turn looks over at Crowbar who’s hat is pulled down, dude’s been snoozing. Die stretches his hand out and lightly flicks Crow’s hat up, “Oy”. Crow hops a teeny bit in his seat and lifts his head up to look over at Die. Die just quietly slurs out “it’s time to go home”, well shit why didn’t you tell a guy sooner. “Alright…”, Crow groans softly as he gets up from his seat and promptly freezes, his vision swirling for a few blinks before settling back into place, he DEFINITELY drank too many of those too fast. It was an 8 pack, and both of them had 3 in the last half hour that it took the marathon to finish. Crow swallows thickly before looking down and seeing Die still in the chair, “Ey, c’mon you gotta get up”. Die just groans softly at him and shoots him an annoyed look. He was made aware that they were leaving but apparently wasn’t aware that it would require actual effort on his part.

Crow starts to roll his eyes but thinks better of it when it feels like his whole head will roll too, he figures Die is doing just as bad as he is after all the beers [who the hell makes a beer that strong anyway] and he bends his knees to stabilize as he holds a hand out to Die. “Yeah I know, I know, but ya gotta get up, c’mon”. Die scoffs at needing to actually move but reaches a hand out to grip Crow’s and Crow has to do a lot of pulling before he gets Die all the way up on his feet just to have the man teeter. Crow has to wrap an arm around him, if this sapling starts pulling a timber they’re both going down. “Use your legs, you’ve got a pair—get em’ under ya… there ya go”, Crow tries his best to talk Die into being a well-balanced pole. He can see there’s no way that Die’s gunna make it to the car on his own, where they parked isn’t unbearably far, but it’s definitely a walk. “Arright come on, let’s get you in the car”, he starts leading the way with a partial ragdoll of a man hanging off him, glancing back at their stuff Crow yells for someone to grab the cooler while he takes care of this. After a good 5 minutes of half dragging half stumbling, he manages to slide Die into the front passenger seat of the car he drove there. Crow needs a break to stretch his back and let out a breath, this is more work than he planned on putting in today. He figures he could probably drive them home fine as long as he went slow, at least the regular speed limit, it’s not the first time he’s had to pick up the slack. Glancing past the other parked cars he notices a pair of cops parked by the exit gate with a breathalyzer. Well shit, he’s been drinking, he’s not positive but some of the other guys might have snuck booze in, there’s no way he’s gunna get past that gate being the one in the driver’s seat. 

He blows an annoyed air out and looks behind him at the rest of the guys packing up, “Trace”, Trace’s head pops up and he raises both brows, “You been drinking?”, guy just shakes his head no, maybe a few waters but that’s about it. “Good, get in the drivers’ seat” Crow’s barking at him at this point, wanting to get home where he can sleep this dizziness off. Trace wasn’t expecting that one, driver usually doesn’t fall on his list of jobs. He’s figuring maybe Crow needs to keep an eye on Die since guy seems fairly wasted already. Fin follows after him carrying several chairs to put in the trunk, Quarters grabbed the cooler and is already at the other car, settling it in the back and working out how they made it there in the 2 cars they used. With Itchy driving, Doze obviously gets preferential treatment and is in shotgun, though he’s kind enough to share the spot with Stitch. Cans has to sit in the trailer behind the car, being so big and all, Quarter’s feels like he’s gunna get stuck back there with Cans what with how Eggs and Biscuits are already settled in the backseat against Matchsticks. Getting out as a group is hard with just 2 cars. Crow is taking a moment to help Fin organize all the junk in the trunk, it lets him keep an eye on the other car and get more fresh air so he can get his shit together. His shit is severely less together when he closes the trunk and looks into the car to see that it’s filled up already. With Trace in the driver’s seat Fin’s parked himself right behind him, Die sitting shotgun fills up the front, Sawbuck had to come over to this car which means they have to have Clover along for the ride to make sure they don’t all go poofing off into a different spot in time. But that fills the whole backseat up, and Crow can’t fit in the other car so his options are either DRIVE the fucking car, or scootch in next to Die. He looks back over at the cops, leaning to the left then to the right, with every shift the ground wobbles and he decides he’s in no condition to outrun them if he tries to drive through the exit.

He begrudgingly walks around to the passenger side and opens the door telling Die to scoot over. Die whine’s at him, as he always does, and complains about his stomach not feeling well, and him needing the window down for air so he doesn’t puke, and whine whine whine bitch bitch bitch. Crow absolutely does not want to sit next to him at this point, so he suggests that Die can sit in the back, crack both windows then, get Aaaaaall the air he needs. Die refuses, digging his heels in and complaining that there’s too many guys back there, it would stress his stomach out worse. Crow looks properly done with car Tetris and tells Die to shift his goddamn hockey stick legs and manages to scoot on past him to land on the same seat. It leaves Die right against the door with the window down, and Crow has to reach up past him and buckle them the fuck up. Crow looks tired and tells Trace to take them home, they are in no condition to be out and about at this rate. Trace just chuckles at the seating predicament and heads on home, the other car following behind him. The ride went surprisingly fine, no one puked, Die just kinda partially stuck his head out to feel the breeze and Crow got to sit with a tilted hat for about 20 minutes. When they park it and start getting out Crow has to have his hands against Die’s sides supporting his lower back to help the guy get enough momentum to get his body upright when Die finally manages to get out of the car. We have surpassed the physical contact quota Crow has for the day, and all he wants to do is get inside and take a break, his buzz is still going really strong, he’s feeling sleepy, and he just wants to not be doing whatever he’s stuck doing. Once Die is out he’s outta there, making his wibbly wobbly way around to the back of the car. He gets to the open trunk and starts rummaging around, just up and getting into Fin’s way. Thankfully foresight is Fin’s thing and he’s gotten most of chairs out and is handing them to the rest of the guys so they can help clean the trunk and be actual productive members of this household.

There’s a familiar hiss and pop as Die opens the last 2 beers and holds one out in Crowbar’s direction, like come drink this last bottle with me. Crow gives him a glance, and considers the fact that he is home, can enjoy a pretty damn good beer then promptly go to his room to relax. He shrugs and walks on over to relieve Die of his second bottle and chug it on down with him. Die almost falls over backwards as he chugs and Crow has to ask, “How are you this drunk??? Off beer?”, admittedly the beer is pretty high in proof, evidenced by the fact that Crow is mildly regretting drinking 4 in one day. Die wobbles but manages to stay mostly upright and slurs at Crow as he admits that he pre-gamed, Crow has to close his eyes for a second cause with how he’s going at this rate, Die seems to have pre-gamed HARD. Die holds onto the empty bottle as he makes his way towards the small bit of stairs that make up the front porch, Crow in step with him to make sure he doesn’t just drop. They pause to fortify in front of the 5 steps that lead up to the door and Die just staaaaaares. He lets out a long, low groan, “ooooooffffugh….I can’t do stairs”. Crow takes a second, just because he needs to remind himself that Die actually needs help in this case. “Yes you can, you use the stairs every single day. C’mon, lift your leg”, he gives Die a firm pap to the outer thigh, sorta just to giddyup the guy into moving his legs. It’s not a loud hit, but there’s definitely the sound of contact, it causes a few of the guys to glance over. Crow just has an arm around Die’s lower back and is sort of, but not completely, pulling him along step by step until they’re on the porch and through the front door. “There, you’re home. You did it”, it definitely sounds sarcastic, but Die still gives him a thanks back for it.

Several of the other guys are moving the chairs and cooler to the garage, getting it all nice and sorted, the last few make their own way into home, happy to be somewhere they can let loose, just slump down into some chairs and relax. They’re pretty sure Itchy plans on celebrating with a few drinks, regardless of whether there wasn’t a chance anyone else could have won or not, he’s got a trophy, he’s earned a drink. Crow gives him one last congratulations on his run and is two steps up on the stairs before Die asks where he’s going. Crow pauses and tells him that he’s already done his drinking and he’s gunna go take it easy while the guys enjoy themselves downstairs. Die huffs at him, “I want to go upstairs too”. Crowbar looks exasperated and turns more towards him giving him a very openly annoyed “Why”. Die points up the stairs and swirls his finger a few rounds before he finds the word he wants “Bathroom”. Crowbar looks like he’s gunna throw something at him, “There’s bathrooms downstairs—", Die’s back to the whining “Noooo—I want to lie in bed….after…”. Crow shuts his eyes and takes a breath, it makes logical sense that he wants to lie down, and it is smarter for him to use the upstairs bathroom, freshen up, and just fall into his own bed, Crow can’t fault his thinking, he’s just annoyed cause Die is drunk and RIGHT, and he’s the only one going upstairs at the moment so he HAS to be the one to help. Crow sighs and comes back down the few steps he’d made progress on, “Ok, get on—lift your leg, puh—Put your arm on the rail and support your own damn weight”. It takes them a couple of steps before they’re in sync again, Die actually doing a better job of holding himself up with the rail, meaning Crow doesn’t have to put in that much effort this time around. Crow glances down at the few guys that made it inside who’ve STOPPED to just watch him deal with this. He scoffs at them and complains “I thought the babysitting part of my job was DONE with”, it earns him some light chuckles but also signals for them to quit staring.

Once on the landing Crow lets Die handle himself on the way to the restroom, just kinda watching to make sure he actually gets in there, he’s shuffling on down to the larger shared bathroom in the hall. When he’s satisfied that Die is fine on his own, and won’t be calling for his help anytime soon, he heads into his own room, takes his hat off, hangs it on the wall before lightly pushing the door closed. It’s a safe assumption that most of the guys will be hanging out with Itchy downstairs, getting their drinks and food in, so he feels confident that the nap his nap will be short enough that his door will be fine as is. He just settles on top of his bed, relaxing as he finds a comfortable position on his back, crossing his arms over his stomach. It’s quiet and cozy, not too warm and not too cool. It’s one of the more peaceful days and his sleepy eyes and warm stomach have him primed for a well-deserved nap. 

* * * * *

Crow isn’t really sure how long he’s been asleep, he didn’t exactly wake up in the usual way. Something was wrong, he was feeling stuffy, warm, it was too warm, and there was a… pressure, not bad, just, odd. No, not a pressure…weight, there was extra weight. Something big, kind of heavy. It’s pushing against him… something heavy… pressing down…A body…?

A body....

**Body**

Crow’s eyes snap open fully, the fog lifting from his brain as it finally catches onto the fact that there is a body pressed against him. For a few seconds he forgets that he’s in bed, his brain cycles through quick flashbacks of memories, trying to recount who could possibly be on top of him, if they’ve been hurt, if they’re dead. He rolls over jerkily and bumps into Die, who just groans softly at him. It takes Crow a few seconds for his heart to stop trying to kick its way out of his chest. Die blinks blearily, he still looks pretty drunk, shirt untucked and wrinkled to hell, pants partially rolled up from sleeping all sprawled out, but still managing to somehow press into Crow’s side. Crow’s whole body relaxes, he’s relieved it’s nothing serious, that they haven’t been attacked and he hasn’t gotten knocked out, that Die isn’t a literal embodiment of his name. That calm lasts all of 2 seconds before the anger hits, what the hell does this ding dong think he’s doing in someone else’s bed?? Crow hisses at him and starts prodding and pushing Die’s side and shoulder “Get up—Get Up!”, moving him closer to the edge of the bed. “Out-out-out-out before someone sees and gets the wrong idea—”. Die doesn’t get far, his limp body just kind of slithers off the edge, landing with a soft thump as what, in the most meager of definitions, counts as an ass hits the ground. He groans, more audibly and definitely unwell. Crow shifts himself to sit on the edge of the bed and reaches down to rest both hands on Die’s back, “Come on, you have to get up”, “I can’t” he mumbles and just curls up tighter around himself. Crow grits his teeth to keep himself from blowing up, he needs to keep this on the down low, “Why not?” he whispers. “Everything hurts” Die whines, slumping against the side of the bed.

Crow is about to argue that he has to when there’s a light rap on the door, he glances up and spots Fin and Trace, the door is partially open but they’re still standing behind the threshold, Crow has a damn good feeling they didn’t open the door, just tapped on the frame to get his attention. Fin asks if Die’s doing alright, he really ain’t looking too good, Crow suspects there might be some bad fragmenting futures that branch from this point, he just tells em’ “He’s not feeling well”. Trace nods, “We can see, you want some help?”. Crow just nods, figuring he can just offload Die onto Fin and Trace and they can plop the poor sucker into his ACTUAL fucking bed, no dice. Trying to lift him earns him more groans and actually fighting to stay on the ground. “Die, you’ve gotta get up”, Crow sounds exasperated. “I can’t I… I’m gunna puh-puke”, he takes a thick swallow and suddenly everyone involved is on high alert. Trace grabs the waste basket just in case, Fin yanks open the doorway to Crow’s adjoining bathroom, Crow has his arms under Die’s and hefts him up to his full height. “No you’re not, not out here, move- Move! Get your legs going, you know how to use them”, there’s the same firm pap on the back of Die’s thigh, earning a soft whine? Moan? It was definitely a confusing sort of noise, but alongside Crow’s prompting for motion, his forward momentum, and the light jabs along the legs to get them lifted he manages to get Die into the bathroom in record time. About as soon as he lifts the seat up Die is on his knees and retching into the bowl.

Everyone winces, and Crow has to tilt his own head up a bit. He had drank the same booze, with nothing in his stomach to absorb it, he can taste it at the back of his tongue cause it doesn’t smell that different coming out of Die as it did coming outta the bottle. He swallows heavily so that he doesn’t join in the pukefest. Crow flops on down on the edge of the tub, sitting close to Die as the guy finishes turning hist stomach inside out, they know he’s done when the loud noises stop and the quiet sniffling and sobbing starts. Crow waits for him to lift his head, and as Die takes a nanosecond too long, he just reaches out and pulls him back by the shoulders, closes the toilet seat, and flushes to get rid of all of that mess. Die is wheezing and coughing, and he just looks miserable, well, more miserable than usual, which was improving a little. Fin comes on over and opens the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, pulling out the little cup Crow uses for water when brushing his teeth, fills it all the way up and hands it to Crow first. “Here, yer gunna want a drink”, Crow nods in thanks and takes a few smaller gulps, Die needs this more than he does, not to say that they’re short on water or anything, even though they are out in the desert, it’s just that Die needs some as soon as possible to calm that throat down. Crow has to shift even closer, this involves a strange adjustment wherein he has to spread his legs wider to make space for him to lean down towards Die [there’s not a whole lot of space between the toilet and the edge of the tub]. This is much closer to Die than he currently wants to be, but it’s what he’s got to work with.

He’s _gently_ instructing Die to lift his hand, making the guy cup the cup with his stupid, refusing to function like normal- fingers, then helping stabilize it as they bring it up to Die’s mouth and let him drink the whole thing down. Fin is back to rummaging through the medicine cabinet, pulling out the small packet of Aspirin, “You need some too boss?”, he’s already popped 2 out of the foil without waiting for the answer. Crow sighs softly, “yeah, probably…”, he gets handed the 2 as Fin relieves Die of his cup, refilling it and handing it back to Crowbar. Crow makes sure to drink from a separate spot than Die, because EW. The pills aren’t very big so he doesn’t need a whole lot to take them down. Fin’s popped 2 more out of the foil and plops them back into Crow’s hand like here, he’s gunna need help with that. Crow’s already neck deep into this mess, he might as well be responsible for all the steps. Back to leaning against Die, hand cupped to hold the pills poised for popping. “Die, you gotta open your mouth”, in proper Die fashion he clamps it shut. “No- nuh-uh, open—", Crow reaches around with his right arm, gripping Die’s chin and shaking it lightly to get that mouth to open, “You gotta take your medicine”. The second there’s enough space Crow pops the pills inside and takes the cup from Fin’s waiting hand, perfectly timed to press the edge of the cup against Die’s lips, not giving him a chance in hell to try and spit them back out.

“Tilt—tilt your head back—”, Crow presses his fingers lightly up under Die’s chin, pushing his head back just a little as he slowly pours the water in, making Die drink the rest of the cup all the way empty. Crow gives him a second to breathe then glances up at Fin, Fin just holds his hand out for the cup which Crow takes to mean they’re not gunna have anymore stomach problems this evening. Fin cleans the cup and pills up for him while Crow just rubs Die’s back, he’s still sniffling, letting out less sobs, but not stopping. Crow looks so tired, and he’s just mumbling “You’re alright, you’ve been drunk before. Everyone here’s been drunk before. It sucks, but you’ll be fine”, which worked to quiet Die down a little more. Trace pipes up from the doorway, holding a pair of pajamas, “You wanna help him get outta those?” Crow absolutely does not, but it would be the nice, your co-workers/friends actually give a shit about you, kind of move. Die’s been in these clothes all day, he was out in them, he got drunk in them, he slept in them, he just puked in them. Honestly the man’s probably in need of a shower but no one is that close of a friend, and that is NOT happening in Crow’s bathroom at balls o’clock. But as long as getting him in jammies gets him out of Crow’s room faster he’s down, “Sure, then we can move him”, he says we, he means them.

Trace comes on over and crouches near Die as Crow helps to pull him back and to the side so he’s sitting against the tub and facing towards the door of the bathroom. Trace shows him the pajamas and tries his best to speak softly at him, trying to make him compliant with the idea of helping them help him get his pj’s on. Die huffs at him and says he’s not taking off his pants and boy does he sound petulant about the idea of it. Trace has to have a solid, 2 minute laugh at that tone before being able to pull himself together enough to speak, “Die—Die! I PROMISE you, no one in this room wants to see what’s going on downstairs, ok? We just want to help you get more comfy”. It almost looks like Die might just spit at him, and Crow’s not having him get however he tends to get when things aren’t going his way, they’re never gunna get this guy off the floor if he starts throwing tantrums. Crow just starts unbuttoning his shirt, just, we’re just gunna go for it, and he’s not letting Die’s brain register or complain about what’s happening at the moment. Though Die is aware that his shirt is moving he can’t articulate a complaint cause a lot is happening at the same time. Crow’s just steamrolling through this, “Lift-li-lift your arms, lift your—Lift. Your. Arms. Up… Up, all the way up”. It takes a few seconds, but Die’s arms get there, Crow tosses the shirt to Fin while Trace has already prepped the pj shirt and pops it over Die’s head, working on getting one arm through while Crow gets the other one. Then they pause to let Die recollect himself cause dude just does not deal with a lot of stimulation, like can’t deal with it, 0% ability to handle shit.

Die blinks in confusion, his arms shaking and him looking around as he tries to figure out what in the hell just went down. “Do you feel better? More comfortable?”, Trace is still trying his best to be gentle and try to get Die to comply with what they’ve started doing, which is changing him into pajamas. Crow is a little better at dealing with Die in this state, though he’s none the happier about it, “Die what’s on you?”, “Huh” Die can’t even focus enough to look up at Crow, but he can run his mouth. “What are you wearing right now?” Crow leans in a bit to rub Die’s arm to get his attention and have him actually look down at himself. Die pets his sleeves a few times before he manages to answer, “My sleeping shirt”. Crow looks like they’re FINALLY making some goddamn headway this evening, “Yes! Good, and you like your sleep shirt, right?”, Die nods at him trying to say yeah but Crow cuts off the yeah by nodding and saying a louder Yeah back at him, “Yeah it does, doesn’t it, AND you’d prefer to be comfortable right?” Crow just keeps on nodding whenever he emphasizes something, trying to lead Die’s brain into agreeing along with him, cause shit will go so much faster if he LISTENS. Die nods a little bit, not having that great of control over his head at the moment. Crow gives a few final nods “Yes you would. Which means, we gotta get your sleep pants on too”. He added a little bit of energy to the end of that, kinda like how you’d speak to a child to try and trick them into thinking something will be fun so they DO IT.

Trace holds the pants back up, showing them to Die, like ready to get your pants on for the night, and Die stares at his pants, then at Trace, then at his sleep pants, and he just tucks his legs together and mumbles about not wanting his pants off. Trace just groans and drops his head cause he’s actually a little tired, it’s kind of late, he’s trying to help, and this annoying 6 foot tall pool noodle is fighting him in the most aggravating way possible. Crow looks 10x as tired as Trace and he just decides that he’s done letting Die have a voice. “Ok, here’s what’s happening- Die we’re gunna stand up. We’re getting up right now, and then we’re gunna get your pants o-on”, he caught himself cause he almost said off, and while this pair has to come off so another pair can come on, he does not feel comfortable saying we’re taking your pants off at a clearly out of it man that’s not feeling well, is not all there, and there’s 2 extra guys in the room that are gunna be involved in the pants removal. Something about it just does not sound right to him, he doesn’t like how it makes him feel. Crow grips Die under his arms again and just quickly stands him up, he remains behind Die, not just so Die has something to lean back against, but that lets him get his hands in front of Die and start working at his belt. “Trace—", Trace glances up at Crow and just stays kneeling in front of Die prepping the pants already, like he might not see the future, but he can see where this is going, he makes sure to tell Crow that he’s ready at that end of things. “Good, great, when they’re loose get them down the rest of the way, I’ll get his legs up, and you just wiggle the new pair over his feet, got it?”. "Got it boss", Trace just keeps nodding as he talks, the pajama pants already rolled and prepped, his hands up and ready to pull Die’s pants down.

Die actually puts up a bit of a fuss, trying to push Crow’s hands away, whining about not wanting to be naked, and Trace is trying to explain to him from the floor that he’s not naked, he’s not gunna be fully naked, they’re just trading pants. Die complains about not wanting Trace to take his pants and Trace has to laugh “I’m not the one taking them, Crowbar is”. Crow can’t see from behind Die so it took him a couple of extra seconds to undo the belt and find the zipper, which felt incredibly awkward to just be feeling around that area. Die gets a touch of blush across his cheeks, and let’s out a moan?? Groan? Some kind of questionable noise as he says Crowbar’s name, questioning that it’s actually gunna be Crowbar removing his pants. Trace shares a look with Fin about these shenanigans while Crow is trying very hard to just push Die’s pants down and NOT think about the noises coming outta Die’s mouth. Trace pulls the pants all the way down, Crow grips Die’s thighs from behind, one at a time, and pushes a leg forward and manages to lift it up just enough for Trace to pull the pants off his foot, and then get the leg hole of the pajama pants on. Crow has to ask that Trace has got the new pants in place, Trace asserts that he’s got it in place. That lets Crow put Die’s leg back down, and kinda have to remind Die to stand on both feet again. After balance is restored it’s the second verse, same as the first; grip thigh, push forward, lift, daytime pants off, nighttime pants on. Trace tosses the dirty pants to Fin so he can hold the laundry and be useful. Trace gets the pants up to Die’s knees where Crow takes over and gets them all the way back up into place. Trace gives him some light applause and tells Die he looks very nice in his pajamas, and that he absolutely is ready to go, to, bed. Sometimes you just gotta talk to your housemates like the drunk toddlers they are.

The fucking applause works too, Die does a small wiggle and explaims “yaaaay, bed”, this man absolutely needs to be in bed, he is ready to just fall back on the floor. Fin and Trace actually stop cause they hear some huffs and puffs happening. Trace leans to peek behind Die and he just falls on the floor laughing cause Crow is trying so hard NOT to laugh about Die wiggling for bed. Trace is losing his shit completely. Fin has to be the voice of reason, a terrible job position in this household, and tells Trace he needs to get up off the floor. Trace literally has to crawl his way to his husband cause he’s still laughing, and now Fin has his own limp frog that he has to help stand up. Crow tries to give concise directions to Die to start walking, but Die just starts ragdolling on him, saying no repeatedly no matter what Crow tries to tell him, he is determined to lie down on that tile floor, it’s a life goal now. To keep him from being a total lump Crow actually has to scoop him up and hold Die against him, which is, admittedly a little difficult, when the man that has like a foot on you decides to not carry any of his weight. He glances up but Fin and Trace are already outta the bathroom and he PANICS, cause there’s no way in hell they’re just gunna let him carry Die. He manages to shuffle this giant muppet all the way to the bathroom door to catch Trace already long gone and Fin’s locked the door from the inside, is wishing Crow good luck, telling him he’s just gunna toss these clothes in the laundry bin, and he closes the door on Crow, barely giving the guy a chance to even ask for assistance.

Now Crow is still feeling a little bit of the buzz from earlier, his stomach tried to crawl up his throat when Die puked, and just holding Die right now is pressing on his stomach to a point that he’s actually nervous that he might puke at any second. He looks over at his locked door, knowing that if he tries to deliver Die to the proper bedroom he’ll have to make it across the room to the door, unlock it, make it to Die’s fucking door, open that fucker, and then make it all the way over to Die’s bed. He then looks over at his own bed, so much closer, so much less work. He relents, Die deserves to lie down and get some proper rest after the night he’s had so far, and Crow does not want to keep holding him, how own upset stomach is the deciding factor. He shuffles his way over to his own bed, sounding annoyed when he dumps Die on it and starts pushing him over to the side, Crow might feel bad for him but that’s no excuse to try and just starfish across the whole damn bed. Die manages to roll onto his left side, facing the wall, and as he’s shifting Crow has to work to pull the blanket out from under him. He feels like he actually **WORKED** when Die finally gets to settle and the blanket can be tossed over him. Crow takes a moment to catch his breath and make sure his stomach isn’t gunna make a surprise visit when he lies down. He gives a tired glare at Die’s back, this limp piece of spaghetti shaped like a leprechaun is just lying there, cozy and already fast asleep, after all the bullshit Crow just went through. Not even a damn thank you. Crow is beyond needing to lie down too, just throwing his clothes off onto a chair and going fuck it, this is future me’s problem, and just settling into bed next to Die in just his tank top and underwear. The next morning will suck, it’s gunna be a pain to explain, but he’s gunna blame Die for somehow making his way into Crow’s room in the first place. He’s also leaving a mental note to self to make Die clean his bathroom first thing tomorrow. He’s halfway through his mental note before he’s just snoring softly, already lost to sleep. 


End file.
